


Trust (and a little bit of something else)

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Force Healing, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22366294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Now a Clan of Two, Din still finds himself hesitating to reveal himself to the Child. Luckily for him, everything that happens to him is completely and utterly out of his control.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 251





	Trust (and a little bit of something else)

Mando and the Child have a system now. Or, more like, Mando has a system that has adapted to the Child now. In credence to his Order, he is technically allowed to remove his helmet having been branded father of this Foundling, but he’s… hesitant. An amalgam of different kinds of fear swirling around inside that shackle his wrists together. His armor is his only protection—physically and mentally. 

But now he has to do the protecting. It’s no longer just him, alone indefinitely in the middle of space where no one can hear you scream. It still could have been like that if only he hadn’t changed his mind last second. 

He doesn’t rightly know why he decided to go back for the Child. He only knows that he felt this immense guilt eating him up from the inside out the minute he’d left the building. And when he’d sat back in his ship, ready to push the events of the day to the back of his mind, he’d locked eyes with a certain, shiny, round object and suddenly his entire past had come rushing to the forefront full force. 

Things had never been so clear and so blurry at the same exact time until that moment. 

Mando looks over from his perch in the Captain’s chair to the Child fast asleep in its carrier. It snores softly, the small, bundle of blankets barely rising with its breaths. He sighs, turning back to the expanse of stars and planets waiting just outside the glass. Things were calm, but they wouldn’t be soon. Best he finds a place to call home for now.

It’s uncharted, small, and very wet. Landing took a bit more precaution than usual because the last thing he needs is the skids getting stuck in the mud. The torrential downpour pings against the metal of the ship and he hopes the Child doesn’t awaken too abruptly. As much as he loathes to leave in this kind of weather, they need better food than the prepackaged, tasteless powder he’d bought at a rundown vendor a while back. Perhaps he can scrounge up some frogs for the little one, too. 

_ He’ll be safe,  _ Mando tells himself as he heads into the damp jungle. 

He’s unable to tell what time of day it is because the dark, grey covering the sky as well as the thick canopy above him cast unnerving shadows everywhere he steps foot. It’s eerily silent, save for the cold rain, as he crouches amongst blue bushes with some type of strange fruit growing in abundance from it. He doesn’t know flora nearly as well as fauna, so he decides to leave the easy pickings alone. 

Shortly after beginning his trek, getting his bearings and the layout of the land, he’d come across a couple of tracks sunk into the mud. A decent-sized feline, by the size and shape, and he’d decided it was the best he could get because, quite frankly, he’s tired and impatient today. 

Bait was set down in the middle of a clearing, but he’s rethinking how well it’s carrying in the midst of all this rain. Crouching in these bushes is straining his thighs and he’s wet, cold, and hungry—

A force mightier than some puny bounty hunter after the Child barrels in his side, resulting in a tumble into the clearing. The minute his head stops spinning from such an unexpected attack, he finds himself underneath a saber cat, it’s teeth snapping mere inches from his neck.

Its paws step onto his chest plate, pressing into him so painfully he’s wheezing for breath as he wrangles an arm free to aim a spray of fire in its general direction. Hissing, it darts off into the tree line, yelping as Mando blasts a few shots from his blaster into its disappearing form. 

Pain, sharp and spreading all over his left side, blinds him momentarily in the intensity, but he has no time to lose. He doubts it’ll be back, but he isn’t sticking around any longer than need be to find out. He all but limps back to the Razor Crest, unwilling, even on a desolate planet in his lonesome, to reveal he’s in pain. It’s nothing, it’s always nothing.

It’s not nothing, he finds out in the security and safety of his quarters. Struggling even to make it up the slight incline of the ramp, he’d stumbled to bed through a haze of pulsing pain and blood dripping down the side of his body in rivulets. He’d ripped his shirt open, unable to lift up his arms to remove it properly. The armor was a nightmare he’d lived through too many times.

His helmet lay discarded halfway across the room, tossed aside so carelessly because patching himself up as quickly as possible became the number one priority. But the real number one priority pokes its tiny head around the doorframe, ears drooping at the sight it comes upon. 

Mando, the top half of his armor lying haphazardly around him, prepares himself to cauterize the gaping wound in his side from the saber cat’s horn with a dingy blow torch. Concerned cooing has his head—his bare head—snapping up so quick and so startled that the Child stumbles back a few feet, wondering if it’d done something wrong. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Din reassures, beckoning it closer, feeling bad for his reaction. 

The crippling realization that his helmet is not currently on his head but on the floor away from him strikes him with anxiety. Briefly, he contemplates going to grab it, even going so far as to stand, but the pain restricts him from doing so and the Child has already seen his face. There would be no point, he’s no longer hidden. 

All of the fear, the doubt, the hesitations come rolling off of him in waves. The Child, feeling the suffering and the discomfort through the force, cocks its head in question. Feet padding silently as it moves closer to its father, it raises its hands in the motion that it understands will get him picked up. 

Din does so, grunting at the effort, setting the Child on his knee and wondering, unable to grasp any of the thoughts racing around inside his head. Rain still pings against the walls of the ship, the only sound other than Din’s shaky, wheezing breaths as he watches his child with curiosity. Its big eyes stare directly at his wound, ears drooping, before raising a small, three-fingered hand. Slowly, the pain ebbs away until it is nothing more than a pink scab with slight contusions. 

Din’s eyes never leave the Child’s, ready and waiting to catch it as it falls back into another inevitable slumber after such an arduous event. He moves it closer, cradling it in both arms close to his chest, surprised at the sting of tears he feels threatening to burst forth. His face was revealed the whole time and not once was the Child disgusted or fearful. Standing, he rubs its ear between the pads of his fingers and moves to put it back in its carrier. Food can wait for now.


End file.
